From the Fire
by anathematize
Summary: Multiverse. The birth of Airrazor and her struggle as she's raised by Soundwave. My first story, please RR.


**Angel of Death**

_This is multiversal. I've used characters from both G1 and Armada. Prime, Megatron and Red Alert are in their Armada forms. There are no OCs._

**From the Fire…**

The cold harshness of spark separation met the protoform with a shocking sense of surreal sensations. Her internal systems came online as her spark fully entered the harsh reality of levers and circuits. Screaming in silence, the terrified spark felt itself connect to the strange systems, combining to them as one. Frantically, she tried to escape the solid metal of this strange prison, back to the gentle warmth of her mother spark. But the protoform caged her spark within it, trapping her into an eternity separated.. Separated from that which she was created from.. That which gave her life.. The brilliant fire of the primal truth.. The primal singularity.. Her spark darted within the cold metal confines of this terrifying new reality, desperate for escape back to what she had known.

Her optic sheaths slid open, the light stimuli causing the millions of highly sensitive microfilaments in her optic receptors to react. Stimuli shot through the fiber optic cables to her meta in a hundredth of an astrosecond. At the same moment, the liquid metal swirling around her naked robotic systems coalesced in response to the electrical field that was generated when her spark activated the central system networks. Forming her skin, the metal alloys created embedded pathways along every microspan of surface area. These pathways immediately connected directly to her meta, sending millions of impulses as they reacted to anything that came into contact with their surface. The sensation of floating in a warm semi-liquid filled her meta, just as her optic receptors began to adjust.. Began to focus.. The harshness that was to become her reality coming into view..

Strange sounds filled her meta as her audio receptors came on line. Swiftly, her systems adjusted and balanced the input levels. Base programming began to install itself. And as it booted up and merged with her base running software, it discerned the directional input of the sound input. Instinctively, she turned her optics towards the sound point source, her optics focusing in on the source even as more base programs opened and began to install. Programs that deciphered the sound input, searching for patterns, deciphering and translating it into the coding that her meta required. As it fully installed, she began to understand what the voices were saying. Their words slowly filtered through her lifting confusion..

"The sparkling is activating Megatron," a voice was saying. The balance of its highs and lows told her meta that it leaned towards the base end, cross referencing with base program files identified it as 'male'. There was very little inflection, as if the speaker had no emotion. The overall tone was slightly metallic, as if the speaker's vocal processors had not been completely calibrated between digital computer link patterns and the vocal patterns of emitted sound wave communication.

"Good, then we have no need for Elita. Terminate her," another 'male' voice replied. This one was smoothly calibrated for emitted sound wave communications, files indicated that this speech pattern was within the realm of 'normal' in both tone and balance. There was more inflection within it, than that of the first speaker. System programs told the protoform that this indicated emotion. Her optics instinctively tracked to the sound source, focusing.. Focusing.. The glare of the bright artificial lights overhead sought to overwhelm her compensation, microfine ocular filters automatically slid into place, dampening the blue/green wavelengths, allowing her to fine tune her focus.

An imposing gray colored mech filled her visual field; she tracked him as he walked towards the containment unit she was forming in. Her meta instantly recorded his image: Horned helm, drive tracks that extended from his shoulder region up past the tips of his horns. Comparison with base identifier programs placed him in the military ground mech category. Programs paired his image with his audio, saved. Stored in memory…

"As you command, Megatron," the first voice said. Its tone and reflection already logged into her recognition software, now saved as an identification file. Briefly, she shifted her optics to lock in on the source. Focusing in on it in an instant… Meta recording the image of the blue mech... Noting specific identifiers.. Facemask, box-like chest unit, optics emitting red wavelengths.. Pairing with the voice pattern now in memory.. Identifying the mech by both sensory inputs.. Now forever linked as one identification.

She watched the blue mech walk towards a shape slumped against the far wall. Some type of metal rings looped together held the limp form up. Her base identifier programs identified the metal rings as what was defined as a 'chain'. As the blue mech reached for one of these chains, the slumped form looked up at him. "Please, no," a high-pitched voice said. The protoform's identifier program compared embedded images, matching the pink exoskeleton type to that of a 'femme'. She watched as the femme turned her blue emitting optics in her direction. Their optics locked, mother spark and daughter spark recognizing each other in that split astrosecond. "My daught-" the femme began, her voice hoarse and filled with pain, but she was cut-off as the blue mech callously shot her at point blank range. Her cranial unit exploded into a million shards of glittering metal and the glowing spray of vaporized energon. The glowing blueness of her released spark streaked in all directions, fading away as the life energy dissipated. The soul ripped apart, floating in the eternal ocean of isolation..

Still connected to her parent unit through the primal link between them, the protoform opened its mouth and activated its vocal processor for the first time. An energon curdling scream of pure agony filled the room as she arched in response to the pain stimuli that the dissolving link caused to race through her nets. Her motor nets were now coming fully on line and she spasmed with the echoes of the pain stimuli for several astroseconds before they disappeared. Her scream still echoed from the cold metal walls as the last fleeting blink of recognition faded from her spark.

The gray mech, now identified in her working memory as 'Megatron', smirked as he looked down into her pod and unlatched the top of it. "It seems our future soldier is strong," he stated coldly. His red emitting optics locked with hers as he reached into the nutrient semi-liquid and lifted the sparkling out. She shivered as the sensation of the warmth was replaced with the coldness of the air. The mech's optics roved over her protoform chassis even as he handed her to the blue mech. "We shall call her Airazor, and she is now your responsibility Soundwave. See that she is properly trained," he coldly ordered.

"What shall we do about her faceplate?" the blue mech asked as he studied the way her protoform had molded itself. She was too obvious as Elita One's and Optimus Prime's offspring. This would not be good within the Decepticon ranks; to stand out and be recognized as a protegee' of the other faction.

Megatron leaned over and studied her more closely. His optics narrowed in thought as he considered Soundwave's observation. Yes, it would not be good for it to be known that Prime's offspring had survived – at least not until she was fully mature, fully indoctrinated within the Decepticon ranks. He wanted the Autobot leader to be emotionally devastated. So distraught that he could possibly make mistakes on the battle field. Then the protoform turn her optics to him, locking with his own. A thought hit Megatron. A future possibility he hadn't considered until that very moment. A smirk passed over his face as he mulled it over in his meta, calculating the possible future impacts of the idea. "Put a protective mask on her, Soundwave. She'll need it anyways when she's ready for the front lines," he ordered, for to cover her face would hide all identification.

Megatron followed Soundwave as he carried his new ward away. Yes, this idea was the best he'd ever come up with. It was very convenient that Prime's offspring was a femme. Very convenient indeed! For if the death of his bond mate didn't destroy the cursed Autobot, then the eventual realization that Megatron had taken his daughter as mate would. Megatron began to chuckle at his own genius. His chuckle became a laugh. No, it mattered little what the sparkling desired, she would be raised and groomed for battle. Soundwave would ensure that she was a true believer in Decepticon doctrine, that she fully developed her innate capabilities as a warrior. His laughter became louder as he considered the final thing that he and Soundwave would ensure: She would be raised to become his future mate - to be part of the coming deception.

"As you command, Megatron," the one now identified in her meta as Soundwave replied as he carried her out of the room. Her amber optics locked briefly on the headless remains of the pink femme that had once been her mother unit, before they turned to the face of the mech who now carried her. His face was hidden behind a protective face mask, so she focused on his red optic lenses. "Father?" she asked as her base programming urged her to seek out the familial unit. To seek any sign of familiarity.. To identify..

Without breaking his stride, Soundwave looked down at the sparkling. He considered how he should reply. Megatron had made it very clear that he would be responsible in the raising of this sparkling to be the great warrior she was bred to be. This was the very reason the Decepticons had kidnapped Elita One after they had learned she was pregnant with Optimus's sparkling. To take the sparkling and make it one of their own, but sparklings had the base programming that demanded they seek out familial units for safety. To protect them until they were fully mature and had their adult exoskeleton. Yes, since he had been given the responsibility of her upbringing, Soundwave assumed that she might as well refer to him as 'father'. "Yes, I am your father," he confirmed without emotion. To accept her as his own would ensure her future loyalty.

A sense of security filled the sparkling with joy. Snuggling deeply into her father's arms, she stared up at his beautiful red emitting optics with innocent adoration. This was her life, her only reality.

-----

"Optimus, we found her.. I'm sorry," Prowl said in a low tone, his voice filled with the same sadness that his dulled optics showed. Deny as he might, there was no arguing the finality.

The big ground mech walked up to the crate that the cruiser had brought back. The crew had been on one of their primary patrol routes, skirting the territory between the Decepticon nation and the Autobot nation, when they had found her chassis. She had been floating in the darkness of deep space, for how long, no one could say. But one thing was all to clear – there was no chance of bringing her back alive. Energon tears welled up in his clear amber optics as he caressed her chassis, now devoid of her cranial unit.. Of her very spark.. His engine choked with his attempt to stop his sob of despair.. His shock of seeing everything he had feared coming to pass..

"Did it ..off line.. with her?" he asked Red Alert, his sentence broken with his emotion. Looking up at the medic, his optics pleaded with him.. He didn't know if he wanted the sparkling to be gone as well, or still functioning. For it wasn't with him.. It would be trapped with the cons.. And what kind of life could a sparkling of Prime's expect under the cruel dictatorship of Megatron? No, if would be better if his sparkling had off-lined before ever knowing life.. Knowing the pain of being Decepticon.. His hidden lip trembled in despair at his wish for this for his own offspring.. But what else should he wish for? For his offspring to never know freedom.. Happiness.. To forever stay in a cell.. Captive.. Tortured mercilessly for the mere fact of its heritage..

Red Alert looked at his old friend; he knew from Prime's halting words that the mech hoped that his own offspring was dead. And he more than empathized with Optimus's motives to hope this. But the medic had to tell him the cold, hard fact. A fact he wished wasn't true. "No Prime, she delivered before she was off-lined. I'm sorry.." the tough medic said as his own optics filled with tears. He couldn't deny what had happened, couldn't change the past..

Prime broke down in sobs as he picked up what little was left of Elita and cradled her to his grill. Not only did he now know with certainty that his mate was gone.. He had to face functioning with the knowledge that his sparkling, Elita's sparkling, may still be functioning. Most likely enduring the life of torture of an Autobot slave, day cycle after day cycle - For he had little doubt of the sadistic glee which Megatron would find in the continual torture of the offspring of his greatest foe…Sinking to his knees, the powerful Autobot cried his sorrow to the emptiness of space. To that great Primus..

Red Alert put his arm over the shoulder plates of his old friend as he sobbed. He wished he could change the facts.. Wished that it wasn't so obvious that the femme's chassis had recently released a spark before her cranial unit was destroyed… But facts were facts, and he bowed his head in grief. More for what had happened to the innocent sparkling, than for the warrior femme. For the femme had had the choice to fight and die in the war, but sparklings were pure innocence, they were helpless to the whims of the fully mature mechs around them. Looking up at the star-filled silent sky of Cybertron's brooding night cycle, he prayed to Primus. Prayed that the sparkling hadn't lasted long… That its life, though full of pain, had been blessedly short in length. Biting down on his lip in grief, he couldn't help but calculate the time which had passed… Since..

…_Elita looked up at him, her optics beamed in happiness as he had confirmed her suspicion. "So I am pregnant?" she asked him again, still not quite able to believe what her audios had heard. Red Alert felt warmth spread through him as he repeated his 'yes'. He knew how many vorns she and Optimus had tried and tried, and yet the pink femme had never carried a combined spark. They had almost given up all hope of ever holding their own sparkling in their arms. Elita One jumped from the exam table, surrounding him in her arms. So happy… So blessed….She couldn't wait to tell Optimus.._

It had been almost a vorn since that day cycle. Elita One had been abducted soon after. Probably after the cons had heard she was pregnant. Why they hadn't demanded an insane ransom for her – the Autobots never could understand. But Red Alert suspected that Megatron just wanted to destroy Optimus. And since he couldn't destroy his chassis, he took Elita One in order to destroy the Autobot leader's very spark. And he had almost succeeded, for without the moral support of his closest friends, Prime wouldn't have been saved from the depths of the emotional abyss of despair. He had almost given up on life itself. But slowly, the Autobots had brought his spark back, had given him the strength to keep going, to keep fighting, and to keep functioning.

Feeling the light pressure of Cybertron's thin atmosphere as it seemed to try and comfort him with the caress of its wind; Red Alert prayed the sparkling was no more. For it would now soon reach the age of physical maturity. If it had been kept in a cell as a tortured captive all these long orbit cycles, and was not given an exoskeleton and the final programming sequences – then it would feel nothing but total, excruciating agony as its protoform skin went through metamorphosis. It would become nothing but an empty, naked mech, devoid of all emotion and thought – agony would be its only reality. And even if they found it and rescued it, that type of psychological and physical torture could never be erased from its meta, it would exist as nothing but a primal beast-like naked mech. Never to be whole.. Never to know what life should have been..

---

"He, he, he…" she giggled in glee as she rolled and slid under the work table. She'd managed to get a perfect shot at Rumble, and now it was time to position herself for another good one – before he managed to tag her.

"Why you piece of slag! I'll get you for that!" Rumble shrieked as he rubbed his throbbing shoulder armor. The fraggin' youngling had snuck up on him and tagged him hard. She was going to pay for that, dearly! Pulling out his gun, he charged after her fleeting form.

Darting into the main room, Airazor's amber optics scanned quickly for cover. She loved these games of laser tag that she was always able to sucker one of her older brothers into. True, it hurt when they managed to land one of their shots on her thin metal skin – but this was the only way they would 'play' with her. So Airazor accepted the slight pain as just part of being a Decepticon youngling. And every orbit cycle she gained both skill and size as she matured. For these 'games' did more than just amuse her, they taught her to be the fighter she would one day cycle become.

Her protoform skin gleamed under the artificial light as she darted quickly behind the couch. Her skin's smooth silvery surface reflected the wavelengths in dizzying patterns. Like all sparklings, she had to reach the chronological age of one vorn before she could be fitted with an exoskeleton. Then her battle processor would receive the final programming, enabling her to transform and begin her training to utilize the full capabilities of her adult mode. Until then she existed as a silvery humanoid protoform. Developing her skills, balance and meta – even as she slowly increased in size.

"Gotcha!" she giggled as she rolled across the floor, avoiding his shot, but getting him with hers. Then she was off again, sprinting around the corner, giggling as she heard his curses increase in volume.

Rumble picked himself up off the floor as he called the freagin' young femme every name in his vast report. She used to be so easy to beat in this game. Her tears of pain as she rubbed her burned skin had become music to his audios. But unlike Rumble, who had stopped growing and stayed a small size when he had hit a vorn, Airazor had kept growing. She was now almost as tall as their father, and had begun to pay her older brother's back for all the bullying they had done to her. Grumbling in disgust, Rumble scanned around him and spied his twin lounging on the couch watching the conflict with amusement on his face.

"What the frag are you looking at?!?" Rumble demanded to know as he glared at Frenzy.

Frenzy grinned and lazily stretched. "I'm watching our little sister kick your aft," he snickered.

Turning his rage towards his brother, Rumble leapt on top of him. The two became nothing but a blur of fists as they tumbled off the couch and rolled across the floor. Cursing and yelling, they crashed into the energon storage unit as they wrestled. It came tumbling down on top of the two, spilling its contents over their chassis.

"What is occurring here?" Soundwave's emotionless voice demanded.

Stopping in mid-swing, Rumble looked up and cringed as he realized that he and Frenzy had really screwed up on this one. But thinking swiftly, he did what he always did. Pointing his finger at Frenzy, "This fragger attacked me for no reason," he whined.

"What the slag?!? You're lying, you piece of slag!" Frenzy said and hit him upside his helm for that.

"I told him not to do it," Airazor said as she came strolling around the corner. "But he was pissed at Frenzy for some reason," she added with a dismissive shrug. Glancing at her brothers, they could sense her smirk behind her mask. Then she turned her 'innocent' gaze back to their dad.

"You freagin' no good piece of –" Rumble shrieked as he returned Frenzy's punch and then leapt towards the smirking young femme.

"Enough," Soundwave said as he grabbed the cassettes by the back of their necks, and lifted them up to his face level. "You will clean up this mess immediately," he ordered. Then he tossed them both hard against the wall. "And do not resume your fighting or face further punishment," he threatened.

"Airazor, come with me," Soundwave ordered as he turned on his heels and headed out the main door.

Briefly, the femme locked her optics with those of her older brothers and gave them a hand signal that inferred 'frag you' as she obediently followed their dad out the door.

"Slogger," Frenzy growled as he went to fetch some towels to clean up the spilt energon.

Rumble punched the wall in fury, "I'm going to so kick her aft.. That little pie-"

Frenzy cut him off by shoving a towel in his face. "That's what you keep saying, and all that ever happens is that WE get in trouble you freager! Don't you get it? She's dad's and Megatron's little favorite," he growled at his brother as he started to wipe up the mess.

"We've got to change that," Rumble griped as he grudgingly began to help.

Frenzy nodded, "You got that right."

---

My first try. Please tell me if I did it all right!


End file.
